


Necromancy For Prospective Students

by amairylle



Series: Kozume Kenma Deserves A Raise [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Magical Realism, Necromancy, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 05:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14537556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amairylle/pseuds/amairylle
Summary: Day 3 | April 24 | AfterlifeKenma’s head has only just hit the pillow when his phone starts buzzing. He groans. If he plugs it in, will it shut up? He pushes himself off the pillow by the bare minimum, extricates the phone, and plugs it in. It does not shut up. Kenma frowns. He flips the phone over to an ever-increasing number of notifications from—who else?—Shouyou.Is necromancy real?the first text reads.Kenma plants his face back in the pillow and screams. “It is seven in the damn morning,” he whines. “I don’t deserve this.” He flips his phone over and scrolls through the messages.





	Necromancy For Prospective Students

Kenma’s head has only just hit the pillow when his phone starts buzzing. He groans. If he plugs it in, will it shut up? He pushes himself off the pillow by the bare minimum, extricates the phone, and plugs it in. It does not shut up. Kenma frowns. He flips the phone over to an ever-increasing number of notifications from—who else?—Shouyou.

 _Is necromancy real?_ the first text reads.

Kenma plants his face back in the pillow and screams. “It is seven in the damn morning,” he whines. “I don’t deserve this.” He flips his phone over and scrolls through the messages.

 _I mean, I know curses are real, and wards and shit,_ Shouyou says, _but is necromancy real? It would be really useful if necromancy were real. Especially right now. Can you do necromancy? Is that the way you say it?_ He uses line breaks as punctuation, stretching out Kenma’s suffering with every sentence. Kenma could’ve slept through a single message, but twenty? And counting? Not a chance. Finally, he gets to: _Natsu’s fish is dead. She’s crying and I don’t know what to do._

Kenma lets his phone fall to the floor. He did not just get woken up over a fish. A dead fish. The phone keeps buzzing. He flops backwards onto his bed and tries to muffle the sound with a pillow. There’s no way he’s going to get up and drive across town for Shouyou’s sister’s dead fish. The phone buzzes again, longer, as Shouyou calls him. It cuts through Kenma’s pillow with brutal efficiency, taking entirely too long to go to voicemail. Kenma waits and waits for it to fall quiet, but Shouyou calls over, and over, and over.

With a whine, Kenma lurches upright and retrieves his phone. Without even reading the messages, he texts Shouyou, _do you know what time it is?_ A flurry of new messages appear, with far to many exclamation marks for this hour of the morning. _It’s seven,_ he continues, _and I got off work at six._

If anything the messages increase in frequency. _I’m so sorry!_ Shouyou says, at least six times. _Natsu’s just panicking and I don’t know what to do about it! It’s her first pet to take care of by herself and she wants to be a marine biologist and she’s screaming so loud and I don’t know what to—_

Kenma opens his contacts and calls his best friend. “Kuro,” he whines, as soon as the line connects.

“Good morning, Kitten!” Kuroo says, his voice bright and cheery. Kuroo is a microbio major, a terrifyingly enthusiastic hobby aquarist, the only necromancer in town and, unfortunately, a morning person.

“I got off work an hour ago,” Kenma says, rummaging around his room for passable pants, in case Shouyou’s parents are home when he gets there. “Shouyou has a fish problem I need you to solve.”

“Ooooooh? Do tell?”

“Don’t be an asshole, I can hear you smirking,” Kenma picks up a shirt, sniffs it, and pulls it on. It’s a work shirt. He pulls it back off. “Shouyou’s sister has a ‘dead fish’ problem.”

“And you actually got up.” Kuroo chuckles. “I’m impressed. He must be really cute.”

Kenma’s eyes narrow. “What does his appearance have to do with any of this?” he says.

“Nothing! Nothing at all! Remember when I fell off my bike and I called you and woke you up after work?”

Kenma doesn’t, but is well aware that he should. “Kuro I don’t have the energy for this,” he says, “I have a ‘dead fish’ problem and I—”

“You sent Yamamoto,” Kuroo butts in, voice soaring with drama. “I was in the hospital, _dying,_ and you sent Yamamoto.”

Oh. “Oh.” Kenma has a rather different memory of the night. “Wasn’t it only three stitches? And I’d been awake for almost forty-eight hours at that point. Yamamoto did a better job taking care of you than I would have.”

“I’m just saying,” Kuroo continues, ignoring him. “You’re out of bed after—What time is it?—less than an hour’s sleep over Shouyou’s sister’s dead fish, so he must be really, really cute.”

Kenma turns as red as his work shirt. “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” he whispers in horror.

Kuroo snorts. “My silence can be bought with Starbucks, because I love you. Ask Shouyou for pictures of the fish and tank setup.”

Kenma gets a couple images out of Shouyou in between his panic. “It’s a betta in a bowl,” Kenma relays, frowning. “Well, was.”

Kuroo clicks his tongue. “No wonder it died.” He’s quiet for a minute, and then there’s some shuffling in the background. “Well, I have a tank I can give her. A nice ten-gallon, with a filter that shouldn’t break on her and I have plenty of plants I can pass on.” There’s scratching in the background, like a pen on paper. “We’ll need some hides…” he mutters “and substrate… I have some ghost shrimp though, and more than enough water conditioner to give her some.”

Kenma finally finds a shirt he doesn’t need to wash and pulls it over his head. “I know you don’t have a spare tank. You’re not going to the pet store for Shouyou’s sister.”

“I’m a grown adult and I can do what I want,” Kuroo says cooly. “And what I want is to help you hook this boy.”

Kenma’s entire face folds in on itself. He gags. “I saved his life, that should be enough.”

“So you admit that you like him?”

“I’m hanging up on you.” He rolls his eyes.

“Text me his address, then. And I want a mocha,” Kuroo replies. “You love me!”

Kenma mashes his thumb into the screen and the call disconnects. He tilts his head back and groans. “I don’t deserve this,” he whispers. His wallet is on the dresser and his keys are on the floor. He grabs both, and his phone charger, and heads to Starbucks.

* * *

 

Kenma gets to Shouyou’s house before Kuroo does. Shouyou opens the door, his strained smile brightening to genuine for just a second. “Kenma!” he shouts. “I’m so, so sorry I woke you up, but she still hasn’t stopped crying, and I panicked, and she doesn’t want our mom to be mad and I thought maybe you’d be able to help, because if magic is real, you can raise someone from the dead, right?”

Every word out of Shouyou’s mouth falls over the next, and Kenma stands there for a moment, blinking at Shouyou over the drinks in his hand, as he tries to pull a response together. “I can’t,” he says, finally, “But I have a friend who can. He’s coming.”

Shouyou bounces a full foot off the ground. “Thank you so, so much! I owe you so much, literally, you name it.” He leads Kenma into the house

Kenma nods. “You do.” He follows Shouyou inside. The house is spacious and cleaner than his has ever been, with yellow walls and warm wood floors and furniture. A few rooms over, someone is crying. Kenma puts the drink carrier down on the dining table and pries two of the cups out of it. “This is yours,” he says. “I got Natsu hot chocolate.”

“Really? That’s super nice of you,” Shouyou says, taking a sip of his over-sugared nonsense. “Mmmmm perfect. Want to give Natsu hers? She’s in the den by the fish bowl.” He gestures at the doorway that the crying is coming through. “She’s great! I think you’ll love her.”

Something tells Kenma that this isn’t a good time for first impressions. Then again, Shouyou’s was worse. “Sure,” he says. “And then I’m going to sleep on your couch.”

“Awww, you sure you don’t want to hang out for a bit?” Shouyou says. “It’ll be fun!” Kenma fixes Shouyou with a glare, letting his eye bags speak for themselves. He takes a long, slow sip of his tea. Shouyou wilts. “…Or you could take a nap on any of our couches. Or in the guest room. Or in my room! Anywhere you like, really.”

“Thanks,” Kenma says. He picks up Natsu’s hot chocolate and shuffles into the other room. Between two squashy lime green couches, on the floor by the coffee table, curled around the fishbowl, is Shouyou’s little sister. She has Shouyou’s shock of bright orange hair, and her sobs sound just like his, but higher. That’s kind of a weird thing to know about a person. “Um,” Kenma says. “You’re Natsu?”

She looks up at him. “What do you want?”

“I brought you hot chocolate.” Kenma sets the cup down next to her.

“I don’t want hot chocolate,” she wails. “Shark Bait is dead!”

“Okay,” Kenma shrugs. “I’ll drink it.” He reaches for the cup, but she pulls it just out of reach.

“No.” She takes a sip. “It’s mine.”

Kenma blinks at her. “Okay.” He sits down on one of the couches, and it threatens to swallow him whole.

“It’s just,” Natsu chokes on a sob. “How am I supposed to be a marine biologist if I can’t even keep one fish alive?” She pins Kenma with her gaze, and Kenma does his best to let the couch eat him.

“Uh,” he says. “I’m sure marine biology school will understand.” He takes another sip of his tea. If he’s drinking tea, he doesn’t have to talk.

“But will Shark Bait understand?!” she shrieks. “No!! Because he’s dead!!” She knocks back the hot chocolate like a shot and collapses around the fish bowl all over again, weeping.

Kenma tenses, suddenly sweaty. He looks around for Shouyou, who is nowhere to be found, and decides that anywhere in the house is better than right here. He stands up from the couch slowly, soundlessly, trying to escape the room without notice.

“What am I supposed to do?” Natsu asks, between sobs. She looks up at Kenma again, and Kenma freezes in place.

“Uh. I have a friend coming to help,” he says. “He knows a lot about fish.”

“How can anyone help me with a dead fish?” she throws up her arms. “It’s not like you can bring my fish back to life!”

“No,” Kenma agrees, “I can’t. But my friend is a necromancer, and he can.”

She squints at him. “I don’t believe you. Magic isn’t real.”

“I saved your brother’s life,” he spits, “with magic.” He crosses his arms.

“Yeah, sure.” she sniffles. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“That’s fine.” Kenma gives up on escaping and lays down on the couch. He purrs as he sinks into the cushions. “Kuro should be here in a bit, and he’ll show you.”

“Who’s Kuro?” Natsu leans back on her heels and glares up at him.

“He’s my best friend. And he knows a lot about fish and raising the dead,” Kenma murmurs into the upholstery. “I’m going to sleep until he gets here.” He grabs a throw pillow, pulls it over his head, and closes his eyes, and his cell phone buzzes. He lets out a long, strained whine.

“Are you okay?” Natsu asks. She picks up the edge of Kenma’s pillow.

“I’ve been awake for almost thirty-six hours,” Kenma replies, wincing at the light. “I want to be asleep.” He pulls out his phone, and, sure enough, it’s a text from Kuroo.

 _Can you have the kid prep the fish for resurrection?_ Kuroo keeps typing, and a few seconds later there’s a list of instructions for the spell. Another minute, and a list of instructions for the fish tank.

Kenma sighs. “Natsu, do you know how to clean a fish bowl? And change the water?”

Natsu scoffs. “Yes.” She puts her hands on her hips. “The man at PetSmart told me how,” she says loftily, sticking her nose in the air. “Do you want to help me?”

Kenma absolutely does not. “Sure,” he says, peeling himself off the couch.

He and Natsu walk back to the kitchen with the solemnity of a funeral procession. As soon as they pass through the doorway, Natsu freezes, and Kenma bumps into her. “Shouyou!” she shrieks. “Were you hiding in here?”

Shouyou, who was leaning against the fridge and looking at his phone, snaps upright. “No! I was, um…” He snaps open a cupboard at random and pulls out a box. “I was getting snacks!”

“Liar. Those are Cheerios.” Natsu marches over to the sink and gently sets down Shark Bait. She whirls around and sticks a finger in Shouyou’s face. “I can’t believe you’d abandon me in my hour of need, you jerk!”

Shouyou throws up his hands. “I didn’t abandon you! I was in the kitchen this whole time!”

Natsu sobs, this one more theatrical than any of her previous ones. “You _left_ me in the other room with _your_ weird friend! You abandoned me and you’re a terrible host! Mom’s going to be so mad.” She sniffs and crosses her arms. “At least your friend brought me hot cocoa.”

Shouyou shrinks back into the wall as the two start arguing in earnest. This is too loud for him to deal with on no sleep. Maybe he’ll go hide in the den again. Those couches were comfy.

“Why do you have to make a big deal out of this? I said I’d fix it!” Shouyou yells.

“Shark Bait is still dead! You fixed nothing!” Natsu jabs him in the ribs.

Shouyou yelps. “Don’t do that!”

The doorbell rings. Kenma lets out a long sigh and feels himself relax a little. “Kuro.”

Shouyou pulls the door open and sure enough, there’s Kuroo, looking as bright and chipper as ever, with a bucket of plants in one hand and a tupperware of shrimp in the other. “Good morning!” he says, his grin splitting his face. “Kenma would you help me unload—” he takes one look at Kenma, who’s halfway to the floor. “…Shouyou would _you_ help me unload the car?” Shouyou darts out the door. “Be careful! There are breakables!” Kuroo calls. He then finds Natsu. “I take it you’re Shouyou’s sister?”

“Who are you?” Natsu says.

“My name is Tetsurou,” he says, setting his stuff down on the table. “Kenma calls me Kuro, though, and you can too if you want. I’m here to help you set up your new fish tank.”

Natsu looks at him and grimaces. “My fish is _dead.”_ she enunciates every word carefully, as if she doesn’t expect Kuroo to understand otherwise. “What do I need a new fish tank for?”

“Well, I’m also the best necromancer in town.” Kuroo winks. “So I think I can help with that.”

“You’re the only necromancer in town,” Kenma says.

“I don’t have to help, you know,” Kuroo shoots back.

Natsu puts a hand on Kuroo’s arm and looks up at him with wide eyes, just barely brimming with tears. “You won’t help?” she asks. Kenma can almost hear the sad violins.

“Hey, no,” Kuroo says, folding his lanky legs so he’s at her eye level. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made that joke. I’m _absolutely_ going to help. I promise I’ll fix this.”

Kenma hides his face in the wall and starts to wheeze with laughter. Forget the sad violins, there’s only one fiddle, and Natsu’s playing him.

Natsu lets her jaw drop a little, and opens her eyes even wider. “Really?”

“I promise.” Kuroo straightens up. “Just give me a minute, I’ve got to find…where is it…” he mutters to himself. “No, I think it’s still in the car.” He rushes out the door, past Shouyou, who looks from Kuroo, to Kenma cackling, to Natsu.

“Did you give him the eyes?” Shouyou asks.

She shrugs. “He said he wasn’t going to help.”

“Really, Nat?” Shouyou sets a box down on the table, behind the bucket of plants. “He brought all this stuff for you, that was unnecessary.”

Natsu shrugs. “Now it’s guaranteed.” She walks over and pokes through the box. “What’s all this? Fish stuff?” She pulls out a string of bones.

A chill goes up Kenma’s back and he straightens up, tripping over his own shoes to pull them out of her hands. Kuroo gets there first. “Please don’t touch those,” he says. “Not everything in here is safe for people to touch.

Natsu crosses her arms. “You mean children?”

“I mean people who don’t know magic,” Kuroo amends. “Age has nothing to do with it. Did you clean, uh…”

“Shark Bait.”

Kuroo stifles a chortle. “Did you clean Shark Bait’s bowl?”

“Not yet.” She picks up the bowl and brings it to Kuroo, giving the it a small shake. Shark Bait does not move. She sighs.

Kuroo pulls out a bowl of his own and unscrews the cap on a gallon bottle of distilled water. “Would you, please?” he asks, scooping Shark Bait into the new bowl.

Natsu eyes him. “Why can’t we use that one you brought?” She points at it.

“Because Shark Bait needs somewhere to hang out while we set up his—”

“Her.”

 _“—her_ tank, and I’m about to ruin this one.” He smiles at Natsu and waves her off to the sink, then turns to Kenma, who’s fully sunk to the floor at this point. “Kenma, get up, I need help.”

Standing up is like nailing jello to a tree. Kenma tries and fails twice before Shouyou comes over and gives him a hand. He joins Kuroo at the table. “I don’t have much to lend you power-wise,” he warns Kuroo at a whisper. “Also, since when are you so nice?”

Kuroo uncaps a marker and starts drawing runes on the fishbowl. “That’s fine. I just need a you there to disconnect the spell if it goes wrong.” He meets Kenma’s eyes and raises an eyebrow. “And you of all people should know I’m always this nice.”

Kenma snorts. “You just like it when I owe you.” He starts pulling things out of the box of necromancy supplies, including the string of bones and a still-warm vial of blood.

“Not true at all.” Kuroo unrolls a large sheet of paper and tapes it flat to the table. “But if you wanted to come over and do a banishment, I wouldn’t be opposed.” He hands Kenma the marker. “Here, I need a three-point circle, and yours are better.”

Kenma draws a single large circle with three smaller ones touching it at tangents. “Spirit?” he asks.

“Tenant. Smokes too much,” Kuroo replies. “Thanks.” Along the lines of the circles, he writes a long string of runes.

Kenma props his head up on his hand and lets himself doze until Kuroo needs him, but as soon as his eyes close, there’s a long, high noise right in his ear, like a kettle. “Eeeeeeeee,” Shouyou says, finally having finished unloading everything. “This is so cool! Kenma, why isn’t your magic this cool?”

Kenma bristles. “Saving your life wasn’t cool?”

“Well, no, I mean—” Shouyou takes a step back, sputtering. “It was awesome! Saving my life was awesome!” he rocks back and forth on his heels and picks at his cuticles. “It’s just that this is more what I pictured when you mentioned curse-breaking.”

“Oh.” Kenma lets his head drop onto the table. “I don’t need all this.”

“Why?” Shouyou asks.

“Because Kenma is powerful and creative,” Kuroo says. “And also because he doesn’t do necromancy, which is fussy.” He opens the vial and pours a tiny bit of blood out onto his finger, which he runs around the rim of the fishbowl. “If I don’t do all this right, the spell can kill me.” He gives Shouyou a toothy grin, wide enough to show off his stupidly long canines. Shouyou gulps, going a little pale. Kuroo chuckles. He sets the vial in one circle, a few sticks in another, and a shiny piece of metal in the third. “Kenma, you ready?”

Kenma reaches into the spell and hooks it with his own magic. He also fishes out a silver knife from Kuroo’s kit and lets it hover over the edge of the paper. “Ready.”

“Excellent.” He turns in his chair. “Natsu are you done with the bowl?”

“Yeah.” Natsu brings the clean bowl over and sets it down next to the circle.

Kuroo fills it with distilled water as well. He hands her a fish net. “When I say so, you’re going to pull Shark Bait out of my bowl, and plop him in yours. Okay?” She nods. Kuroo grabs the string of bones in both hands and starts to chant. Kenma’s never bothered to learn the language Kuroo uses for necromancy, but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t need the ominous vocal flourishes Kuroo uses at the end of every line. Shouyou and Natsu find it impressive, though. Natsu stares without blinking at Shark Bait, but Shouyou can’t seem to keep his eyes in one place, flitting from Kenma to the bowl to Kuroo. The twigs burst into flames and the Hinata siblings flinch, but Kuroo doesn’t stop chanting, a fine sheen of sweat across his forehead. The metal tarnishes and the fishbowl begins to glow. Then, there’s a loud pop as both the vial and the fish bowl crack, and the water inside starts smoking. “Natsu, now!” Kuroo barks. Natsu leans over him and scoops Shark Bait out of the bowl perfect accuracy. She plops the fish in the clean bowl and shrieks.

Swimming in small circles, perfectly intact, is Shark Bait.

“I can’t believe you did it!” Natsu hugs Kuroo. “Thank you so much! She’s alive!”

“Uwaaaaaaah!” Shouyou yells.

“Great.” Kenma pushes his chair back and grabs Shouyou’s sleeve, pulling him away from the table. “You said you had somewhere I could sleep?”

“Oh!” Shouyou says. “Sure! There’s my room upstairs but it’s not super clean right now and I think Mom’s still got a quilt half-done on the floor in the guest room, so—”

“The couch,” Kenma says. “Can I sleep on your couch?”

“Are you sure?” Shouyou looks back at Kuroo and Natsu, who are cooing over Shark Bait’s newly restored tail. “They’re probably going to put the tank in there.”

“Headphones and a blanket,” Kenma says.

Shouyou nods. “I can get you those!” He disappears up the stairs.

Kenma lurches back into the den and flops face-down on the couch, letting out a soft sigh. Finally, sleep. He lets himself start to drift, listening idly to Kuroo and Natsu talking in the kitchen. Something about baking wood hides and java ferns. A weight appears on his body, soft and warm, and gentle hands press a pair of earbuds into his own. He slides them into his ears and tells his phone to play something, anything, before closing his eyes completely and letting everything else disappear.

* * *

Kenma feels marginally less like death when he wakes up, but his eyes are gummy and his tongue is sandpapery and that’s not helping things. He blinks the room into focus. On the cabinet across from him is a beautifully arrayed ten-gallon fish tank, with plants and logs and ghost shrimp scurrying around. In the middle of it all is Shark Bait, her fins and tail a vibrant blue, looking much better now that she’s not dead. Kenma stares at it for a few minutes; it’s almost enough to lull him back to sleep, but there’s something orange in the corner of his vision and the house smells delicious and meaty. He pushes himself up and pulls the earbuds out. “What time is it?” he croaks.

Shouyou pauses his game and turns around. “Oh, good, you’re up!” He grins at Kenma. “It’s almost dinner, my dad’s cooking. Kuroo went out to grab something with my mom and Natsu, but they’ll be back and we can all eat together! If you want.”

Kenma grimaces. “Can I eat in here?” he asks. “People.”

Shouyou nods vigorously. “Kuro said you might want to do that. I can eat with you or not, but Natsu’s glued to Kuro, so he’ll probably eat with my family.”

Kenma nods and flops back down on the couch. “That’s fine.”

Shouyou giggles. “Seriously, thank you, I owe you so much for introducing us to Kuro. He really saved my ass earlier. I had no idea what to do, and Natsu was crying and I could’ve bought another fish, but she didn’t want one, so I wasn’t sure what else to do and then I thought necromancy might be real and it turns out you know a necromancer! It’s so lucky!” He smiles at Kenma. “I owe you so much. Anything I can do for you, you name it!”

Kenma nods. “Glass of water would be nice,” he rasps. “And, the next time we hang out, no emergencies.”

Shouyou grins and gives him a big thumbs up. “You got it!” He puts his Nintendo DS on the coffee table and hops up. “I’ll be right back!”

“Thank you,” Kenma murmurs. He closes his eyes again, and lets himself doze until dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/amairylle) or [Tumblr!](https://amairylle.tumblr.com)


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